FROM  MAPLES 


Sullivan  Holman  McCollestcr 


S.  H.  MK'OLI.ISTKR  AT  so.     1).   I).  AND  1).   LIT. 


AUTUMN  LEAVES        /°5". 
FROM   MAPLESIDE      ,?-?s 

—      /TO 


BY  SULLIVAN  HOLMAN  McCOLLESTER 


GATHERED  UPON  HIS  EIGHTIETH 

BIRTHDAY,  DECEMBER  18TH 

1909  —  AND   AFTER 


AUTHOR  OK  "  AFTER-THOUGHTS  OF  FOREIGN  LANDS  AND  CAPITAL  CITIES, 

"  BABYLON   AND    NINEVAH    THROUGH   AMERICAN    EYES," 

"  ROUND  THE  GLOBE  IN  OLD  AND  NEW  PATHS," 

"  MEXICO,  OLD  AND  NEW." 


PRINTED  FOB   PRIVATE  CIRCULATION 


1909 

MARLBORO 
NEW  HAMPSHIRE 


COPYRIGHT,  1909 
BY  SULLIVAN  HOLMAN  MCCOLLISTER 


PRINTED    BY 
THE   RUMFORD   PRESS,   CONCORD 


DEDICATED  TO  FRIENDS  AND   STUDENTS 

WORTHY  TO  BE  REMEMBERED 

AND  LOVED 


CONTENTS. 


THANKS    FOR    THE    BLESSINGS    OF    FOUR 
SCORE  YEARS           .....  5 

NEEDED  HELP     ......  27 

TRUE  FRIENDSHIP       .....  28 

NEW  YEAR'S  DAY 28 

EASTER 30 

OUR  EDA     ...                  ...  31 

DANDELION          .....  33 

EARLY  SPRING     ......  34 

JUNE .36 

A  SUNDAY  RIDE  WITH  CARRIE    ...  37 

OUR  PINERY        ......  40 

OCTOBER      .......  42 

OUR  FAY  BOY     ...  44 

ASCENT  OF  LITTLE  FEET    ....  46 

MODADNOCK         ......  47 

ANGELIC  AID       .         .         .         .          .         .  51 

SUNSET  OF  LIFE           .....  52 

A  HAPPY  DAY 53 

NEVER  So  LIGHT  BEFORE   ....  55 

THE  SOUL-LAND  57 


AUTUMN  LEAVES 
FROM   MAPLESIDE 


THANKS   FOR  THE   BLESSINGS 
OF   FOURSCORE   YEARS. 

I. 

All  thanks  to  God  for  the  old  home, 

Composed  of  hill  and  dale, 
Of  day  and  night,  large  house  and  barn, 

Amidst  shades  and  blooms  pale 
With  flowers  bright,  meadows  and  woods, 

Fair  rising  and  setting 
Of  sun,  moon  and  all  lustral  orbs, 

And  outlook  far  reaching. 

Still  more  for  parents,  fond  and  just, 

Sisters  and  brothers  true, 
Ancestors,  wise  and  full  of  hope, 

Affording  joys,  not  few. 
How  could  he  fail  to  give  heart-thanks 

For  such  a  childhood  home ! 
It  was  quite  full  of  hope  and  life, 

And  duties,  not  irksome. 

He  thanks  Thee,  O  God,  Thou  hast  made 

Love  to  abound ! 
Enriching  heart  with  trust  and  joy, 


And  laughter's  sound, 
That  in  the  loneliest  byways 
Sweet  bliss  be  found. 

He  thanks  and  worships  Thee,  Most  High ! 

For  flowers  in  summer 
And  pearls  of  dew  ;  in  winter,  snow, 

That  faces  may  glimmer 
With  life  and  joy,  and  hope  and  song, 

Thus  giving  wings  to  time, 
That  days  and  years  fly  very  fast 

Onward  to  life's  full  prime. 

Yes,  thanks  for  school-days  long  ago 

When,  clad  in  his  red  frock, 
He  sat  up  straight  on  hard,  front  board, 

Hearing  no  tick  of  clock. 
When  nearly  through  the  hard  three  R's 

He  rose  to  the  back  seat ; 
Soon  left  the  common  for  high  school 

And  found  it  a  great  treat. 

To  school  he  went  years  out  of  town ; 

When  fitted  for  college 
To  Norwich  and  Cambridge  he  went 

For  culture  and  knowledge; 
At  graduation  he  resolved 

To  teach  for  vocation, 
To  help  the  young  to  understand 

Real  growth  and  fruition. 

6 


Always  he  had  striven  for  true  culture ; 
As  he  had  studied  books,  men  and  nature, 
He  longed  and  strove  earnestly  for  wisdom, 
To  dwell  near  God  and  work  in  His  kingdom. 
When   other  youths  would    seek  the   woods  and 

brook, 

From  choice  in  quietness  would  take  a  book, 
To  learn  of  men  and  things,  all  good  and  true, 
To  build  up  character  with  facts,  not  few ; 
So  his  spare  hours  ran  not  to  waste  nor  sport, 
To  live  altogether  in  passion's  fort. 

As  onward  he  advanced  in  truth, 

Though  amply  blest, 
He  could  ne'er  find  a  stopping  place 

Of  perfect  rest, 
Nor  did  he  pray  to,  till  he  had  gained 

The  highest  crest. 

At  length  he  joined  the  ministry 

To  his  first  high  calling, 
That  he  might  lead  securely  on 

From  ways  most  appalling, 
To  help  young  minds  to  see  and  know 

The  godly  given  them, 
Reflected  plain  from  rose  and  star, 

As  shown  in  Bethlehem. 


All  thanks  for  his  own  pleasant  home, 

The  prize  of  hearts  made  one, 
Blessing  it  with  Ada,  Carrie, 

Lee  and  Fay  from  heav'n  won ; 
Each  came  in  sweetness  full  of  life . 

But  suddenly  all  left 
Save  one,  breaking  the  heart  with  grief, 

So  tryingly  bereft. 

O,  thanks  for  son  still  left  on  earth, 

To  grow  to  full  manhood 
With  heart  and  mind  well  disciplined, 

To  work  for  highest  good. 
Very  successful  has  he  been 

In  preaching  the  Gospel, 
And  leading  many  souls  to  Christ, 

And  on  God's  love  to  dwell. 


II. 

'Tis  not  the  physical  alone 

That  makes  precious  kinship, 
If  heart  and  soul  are  not  in  it, 

False  is  relationship ; 
Then  selfishness  will  mount  the  horse 

And  ride  on  for  mere  pelf ; 
But  let  kinship  come  from  the  heart, 

For  others  't  will  give  self. 


8 


Since  great  light  has  fallen  on  earth 

From  higher  life  and  shore, 
To  prove  the  risen  are  alive, 

To  die  ne'er  any  more, 
The  heart  cannot  too  thankful  be 

For  such  news  from  above  ! 
The  realm  of  God  is  all  crowded 

With  his  goodness  and  love. 

It  is  not  crushing  now  to  bear 

Hard  pain  from  sudden  blow, 
For  sure  the  Rock  has  been  smitten, 

Whence  waters  of  life  flow  ; 
If  heart  sorrows  for  dear  ones  gone, 

If  for  them  it  does  long, 
It  feels  that  God  has  led  them  on, 

And  he  can  do  no  wrong. 

The  Comforter  has  surely  come 

Through  him  who  is  the  way ; 
He  sets  the  gate  of  death  ajar 

To  show  the  cloudless  day, 
To  help  the  eye  of  faith  to  see 

The  glory  of  heaven 
And  throngs  of  friends  gone  on  before, 

To  advance  in  Eden. 

For  this  clear  spiritual  sight, 
A  mind  to  know  and  love, 


For  these  sacred,  holy  longings, 

Which  our  high  heirship  prove  : 
For  lives  aiding  one  another 

Under  the  smile,  or  rod ; 
For  Amaranth  secured  aloft, 

He  thanks  Thee,  O,  his  God  ! 

He  'd  learned  the  mystery  of  growth  duly, 
Not  to  misjudge  mortal  changes,  decay, 

But  know,  we  only  hold  treasures  truly, 

When  first,  it  seems,  they  sure  are  gone  for 
aye. 


III. 

He  offers  thanks  for  his  success 

While  teaching  district  school 
In  goodly  Richmond  and  Walpole, 

With  pupils  true  to  rule : 
At  maturity  many  filled 

With  honor  good  places 
At  home,  abroad  in  public  ways, 

Displaying  rare  graces. 

He  was  Principal  full  two  years 
Of  Walpole  graded  school ; 

Of  Mount  Caesar  Seminary 
For  nearly  five  years'  rule ; 

10 


Of  Westbrook  Seminary,  Maine, 

For  nine  years  very  sure ; 
Whose  faithful  students  were  anxious 

Their  powers  to  inure. 

Through  strong,  urgent  calls  he  became, 

Without  seeking  it  true, 
The  Regent  of  Buchtel  College, 

When  all  was  fresh  and  new ; 
For  six  years  he  was  President ; 

Then  by  agued  illness 
From  this  high  office  he  resigned, 

To  win  back  healthfulness. 

To  make  a  new  college  alive 

Is  no  easy  affair ; 
But  founder,  faculty  and  all 

Did  work  with  special  care, 
To  make  the  college  notable, 

Where  students  could  enter 
And  graduate  with  high  honor, 

And  patrons  could  center. 

All  thanks  to  Thee,  Most  Holy  One ! 

That  this  work  did  advance, 
That  college  soon  did  win  a  name 

For  thrift  and  vigilance, 
For  order  and  scholarship  high, 

And  strict  moral  culture ; 

11 


To  put  in  place  of  wornout  themes. 
Devout  ethic  nurture. 

So  students  free  in  mind  and  heart 

Could  worship  the  Most  High ; 
Yet  charged  in  classics  and  science, 

Exactness  to  apply, 
According  to  rule  and  logic ; 

Thus  they  were  trained  to  think 
And  led  to  seek  high  attainment, 

And  of  Christ- waters  drink. 


TV. 

So  leaving  college  with  regret 
Because  of  failing  health,  he  went 

Abroad  to  lands  as  amoret, 

For  fairest  and  rarest  things,  sent. 

He  felt  the  highest  vocation 

Is  teaching  mind  to  think  and  seek 

For  true  knowledge  without  pretense, 
Yet  making  it  polished  and  meek. 

For  pleasures  real  on  land  and  sea ; 

For  knowledge  from  afar ; 
For  visits  oft  to  school  and  church 

To  bless  heart  and  not  mar : 


12 


For  all  the  wondrous  and  grand  works 

Of  creation  in  sight ; 
As  these  were  really  seen  and  felt 

He  thanks  God  with  his  might. 

To  walk  where  Christ  and  prophet  trod, 

And  sick  folk  had  been  healed, 
And  many  wonders  had  been  wrought 

And  highest  truth  revealed  ; 
To  have  what  has  been  mystery 

Opened  up  to  be  clear ; 
For  these  all  thanks  to  God  on  high 

For  his  bright  light,  so  dear  ! 

For  climbing  up  Mount  Lebanon, 

For  bathing  in  Jordan, 
For  outlook  from  Mount  Olivet, 

For  seeing  fount  of  Dan. 
For  sight  of  stars  o'er  Bethlehem, 

For  rest  in  Bethany, 
Devoutest  thanks  Holy  Father 

For  such  a  blest  meiny ! 

'T  is  good  to  count  and  con  these  o'er, 

And  so  renew  the  sights 
Through  active,  strong,  mental  efforts 

In  clear,  divinest  lights : 
Yet  after  all,  'tis  mind  that  sees, 

When  thrilled  through  with  the  good  ; 

18 


The  soul  lives  not  on  things  of  sense, 
But  on  eternal  food. 

He's  traveled  many  thousand  miles ; 

Has  been  wrecked  twice  at  sea ; 
Still  in  his  wand'rings  here  and  there, 

From  harm  he  has  been  free. 
O  God,  thanks  to  Thee  for  safety ! 

Most  kind  thou  hast  e'er  been 
Through  day  and  night,  storm  and  sunshine, 

That  knowledge  he  might  win. 


V. 


He  feels  now  we  need  n't  go  abroad 

For  the  delectable ; 
For  right  here  in  our  own  blest  land 

Are  things  most  valuable  : 
Admire  the  scenes  of  Italy, 

Or  high  Swiss  mounts  and  lakes ; 
Sure  these  do  n't  surpass  in  grandeur 

Our  loftiest  estates. 

Huge  rocks  do  rise  sublimely  high 

In  Yosemite  Dale ! 
Niagara  and  White  Mountains, 

And  Wondrous  Mammoth  Vale, 


14 


Have  no  equals  in  foreign  lands : 
Ours  stand  superb  and  best, 

Whether  studied  separately, 
Or  viewed  with  all  the  rest. 

Our  national  institutions, 

Our  schools  and  churches  free, 
Produce  better  results  than  all 

Across  the  wide,  deep  sea. 
Electrics,  telegraphs  and  'phones, 

Originated  here: 
All  thanks  be  unto  thee,  O  God, 

For  legacies  so  dear! 

Here  many  jewels  are  unfound 

In  our  own  native  land, 
Which  diligence  will  discover 

In  quarry,  shell  and  sand, 
To  hang  round  the  neck  of  fancy, 

As  clearest  gems  to  shine 
In  darkness  and  bitterest  grief, 

To  furnish  light  divine. 

Our  sunsets,  O  yes,  how  splendid  ! 

And  shooting  Northern  lights ! 
The  clouds,  how  brilliant  with  colors 

That  deck  loftiest  heights  ! 
The  soft  twilight,  how  it  lingers 

Exciting  pure  feeling, 

15 


That  mind  may  be  induced  to  know 
The  worth  of  high  being. 

What  progress  is  in  store  for  mind  set  free, 
From  earthly  drawbacks  and  allowed  to  see 
The  work,  begun  here,  perfected  above 
And  all  eternity  made  helpful  love ! 

Let  him,  O  Father,  prize  highly  this  life, 
And  willing  be,  to  bear  its  toil  and  strife, 
That  all  the  better  fitted  he  may  be 
To  live  and  work  and  grow  and  dear  friends  see. 


VI. 

The  seen  we  just  begin  to  know, 

However  long  we  live  ; 
It  cannot  otherwise  be  true 

Than  that  our  God  will  give 
Opportunity  for  learning, 

As  higher  up  we  pass ; 
The  things  which  here  we  could  not  grasp, 

There  we  '11  know  all,  alas  ! 

Thus  meditating,  his  own  land 

Seems  the  dearest  of  all ; 
His  native  state,  his  natal  town, 

And  birthplace  claim  first  call : 

16 


The  home  where  he  has  longest  lived, 
Holds  first  choice  on  his  part ; 

So  Mapleside,  his  domicile, 
Is  dearest  to  his  heart. 

His  great  grandsire  first  purchased  it ; 

His  parents  long  owned  it; 
He  chanced  here,  and  here  he  abides, 

To  till  and  to  plant  it 
With  fruit  trees,  maples  and  chestnuts, 

And  cedars  and  roses ; 
Here  glows  the  sun,  early  and  late ; 

In  peace  the  day  closes. 

Contentment  he  has  here  enjoyed 

With  high-minded  consort, 
Much  loved  children  and  truest  friends, 

Making  a  sweet  resort. 
His  library  of  books  is  here ; 

Each  one,  he  knows,  commends 
High  thinking  and  devout  living, 

That  life  be  all  amends. 

In  his  study  away  from  noise 

He  has  held  communion 
With  Moses,  David,  Paul  and  John, 

Shakespeare  and  Washington, 
Franklin,  Emerson  and  Homer, 

With  throngs  of  followers, 

17 


To  prove  experience,  the  teacher, 
And  all  men  his  scholars. 

He  finds  it  pleasant  to  recall 

How  he  induced  brothers 
To  aim  aloft,  seeking  knowledge 

In  high  school  with  others, 
Whose  parents  felt  this  could  not  be ; 

Still  to  his  school  they  went ; 
In  learning  great  progress  they  made 

With  strong  minds  rightly  bent. 

This  pleased  parents  and  gained  consent 

For  them  to  college  go ; 
They  worked  their  way,  graduating 

With  class  honors,  not  low ; 
Then  for  awhile  studied  and  taught 

With  eminent  success; 
As  debts  were  paid,  one  his  mind-force 

To  healing  did  address. 

The  other  in  his  seeking  strove 

To  master  chemistry, 
Being  proficient  in  science 

And  laws  of  his  country ; 
Both  already  in  their  line  are 

Adepts  and  widely  known ; 
The  chemist  is  authority 

From  his  science-seed  sown. 


18 


Dear  sisters,  too,  he  encouraged 

To  fit  themselves  to  teach ; 
All  these  did  patronize  his  school, 

And  for  knowledge  did  seek : 
At  length  some  taught  with  good  success, 

Later  helped  make  good  homes, 
Crowning  them  with  Christian  graces 

And  love's  bright  polished  domes. 

All  thanks  and  praise  he  gives  to  God 

For  these  precious  blessings 
On  this  his  Eightieth  Birthday  ! 

For  all  these  his  heart  sings 
Gladdest  paeans  of  praise  and  cheer, 

To  keep  the  mind  from  age, 
And  conscious  how  little  it  knows 

Of  infinite  knowledge. 

Still  ne'er  has  he  so  longed  to  know 

As  now  of  wisdom's  ways; 
As  he  looks  through  the  glass  of  time, 

Here  and  there  and  always, 
He  sees  signs  of  ever  living, 

That  mind  may  seek  and  know 
High  truth  below,  high  truth  above, 

Which  sets  all  things  aglow. 

He  knows  gold  is  still  in  the  rocks 
Of  ages  to  be  found, 

19 


Which  diligence  '11  delight  to  find, 
And  diamonds  in  the  ground, 

Which  culture  will  seek  for  till  found, 
For  these  are  beautiful ; 

When  seen  by  one  of  thought  and  taste, 
They  are  truly  helpful. 

VII. 

Already  science  has  unfurled 

Its  colors,  doing  things 
In  earth  and  far  extended  sky, 

To  clip  electric  wings ; 
Thus  these  bright  bubbles  on  the  rim 

Of  eternity  glow, 
To  show  that  mind  in  the  saint-land 

Can  great  truths  come  to  know. 

To  keep  young,  one  must  think  and  do 

To  help  and  bless  truly, 
That  goodness  shall  end  in  ripeness 

And  wrong  shall  die  surely. 
So  aided  he  does  with  his  might 

The  duty  close  at  hand, 
Conscious  the  All- Wise  '11  compensate 

All  doing  his  command. 

The  prayer  on  his  birthday  is 
That  Deity  may  hold 

20 


All  souls,  young  and  old,  in  his  arms, 

Bearing  them  to  his  fold, 
That  they  may  e'er  live,  love  and  grow, 

Rapidly  advancing, 
(living  devout  thanks  to  the  Lord 

That  life  is  unending. 

VIII 

Sermons  three  thousand  has  he  preached  ; 

Funerals  attended 
Numbering  sure  fifteen  hundred 

With  weddings  oft  blended  : 
A  thousand  lectures  he 's  given 

On  culture  and  travels 
In  his  country  and  Great  Britain 

Upon  hill  and  levels. 

Through  these  changes  hair  has  silvered, 

The  crowfoot  marked  the  face, 
To  show  the  house  in  which  he  lives, 

Is  falling  in  its  place. 
These  transits  do  not  affect  him ; 

He  feels  young  as  afore. 
So  should  it  be,  let  flesh  grow  old, 

And  mind  grow  young  in  lore. 

"  Old  age  of  youth  is  forty  years," 
Declares  Victor  Hugo; 

21 


Yet  eighty  years  seem  young  to  him, 

As  onward  he  does  go, 
The  spring  time  only  of  soul-life ; 

It  is  his  chiefest  noy 
To  know,  he  's  done  little  for  men, 

While  Christ  died  for  their  joy. 

Descending  now  the  sunset  slope 

Thoughtfully  he  would  plan, 
To  admire  the  works  of  nature, 

To  serve  God  and  help  man. 
As  earth's  drama  shall  seem  to  close 

He  longs  to  hear  the  call, 
"  Up  higher,  come  away  from  earth, 

To  thank  God  for  it  all." 

IX. 

The  little  child  he  knows  relies 

On  an  arm  not  his  own, 
Conscious  he  is  not  strong  nor  wise ; 

He  shuns  the  dark,  alone ; 
But  let  kind  parents  be  at  hand, 

Tenderly  to  abide, 
And  he  at  once  is  shorn  of  fear, 

For  true  love  is  his  guide. 

Thus  let  man  in  his  God  confide^ 
Whatever  then  befall, 

22 


On  him  surely  he  can  rely, 

Heeding  always  his  call ; 
Then,  though  he  may  seem  to  stumble, 

God  will  not  let  him  fall, 
But  keep  him  humble  and  thankful, 

To  love  him  most  of  all. 

Heart-thanks  to  Thee,  O  God,  for  having  made 

Love  to  abound 
In  earth  below  and  in  all  realms  above, 

To  bring  around 
The  ultimate  rescue  of  every  soul, 

A  work  profound ! 
So  neither  life,  nor  death,  nor  change  below, 

Nor  change  above, 
Can  ever  separate  us,  while  we  live, 

From  his  great  love, 


X. 

Eye  hath  not  seen  nor  tongue  hath  told, 

Nor  ear  hath  heard  it  sung, 
How  joyous,  if  body  be  old, 

The  heart  can  e'er  be  young ! 
Thanks,  O  God,  to  Thee,  when  old  age 

Has  strong  muscle  unstrung, 
That  mind,  the  most  exalted  gift, 

Can  keep  advanced  years  young. 

23 


Then  let  whatever  will  betide 

To  hinder  or  oppose, 
If  only  he  press  on  in  life, 

Heaven  will  be  its  close. 
What  though  the  road  be  very  rough, 

It  can 't  be  very  long : 
lie  '11  smooth  it  with  hope  and  good  cheer 

And  most  celestial  song. 

To  stand  still  is  always  hurtful; 

We  should  be  active  now, 
That  when  the  close  of  life  shall  come, 

There  '11  be  sweat  on  the  brow ; 
The  Master  then  will  be  smiling 

At  setting  of  the  sun, 
And  '11  say,  "Good  and  faithful  servant, 

I  pay  thee  with  well  done." 

Thus  many  of  our  precious  ones 

Have  passed  to  the  bright  shore ; 
So  it  was  with  Christ  and  apostles 

And  all,  wise  in  true  lore. 
May  he  have  like  experience 

As  he  '11  cross  the  river 
To  friends,  so  many,  tried  and  loved 

To  be  a  true  liver. 

There  meeting  all  whom  he  has  known 
And  honored  in  earth-land ; 

24 


How  glad  this  will  make  mind  and  soul 
To  be  'midst  that  vast  band, 

To  live  and  act  forevermore 
In  serving  Highest  will! 

This  '11  make  heaven  so  sweet  a  boon 
As  sainted  minds  to  thrill. 

So  long  as  helpful  he  can  be 

To  near  and  distant  friends, 
O  God,  let  him  remain  on  earth, 

To  tell  how  thy  love  sends 
All  things  divine  to  human  souls, 

But  when  the  body  numbs, 
Then  speedily  let  him  depart 

Whither  no  evil  comes  ; 

To  live,  love,  learn,  work  and  grow  there, 

The  mortal  laid  aside, 
That  he  no  longer  be  hindered 

In  doing  what  '11  abide; 
Where  life  consists  in  knowing  God 

And  him  whom  he  hath  sent. 
Then  for  such  favors  may  his  thanks 

Forevermore  be  spent ! 

XL 

All  we  can  take  through  the  gates  ajar 
Is  just  what  we  are ; 

25 


No  gold,  no  pearls,  no  great  wealth  will  remain 
The  pure  soul  to  stain. 

Yet,  over  the  dark  Jordan  we  can  go 

Without  any  foe, 
By  clasping  the  Father's  hand,  heeding  his  voice 

From  our  own  free  choice. 

Thus  our  dark,  earthly,  silent,  starless  night 
Will  be  changed  to  light, 

As  radiant  faces  welcome  us  there, 
Freed  from  sin  and  care. 

After  harvest  of  sowing  eighty  years, 
Here  is  sweet  rest  in  spite  of  work  and  tears, 
As  memory  stores  up  shocks  of  stray  wheat, 
To  feed  and  cheer  the  heart  in  glad  retreat, 
Making  ready  for  smooth  passage  ahead, 
To  be  nearer  God  than  ever  before 
In  thought,  feeling,  doing,  loving  far  more 
Than  possible,  as  mortal,  heretofore. 


26 


S.   II.   McCOLLISTER  AT  rut.     A.   B.  AND  A.   M. 


NEEDED   HELP. 

Revealed,  it  is  to  us  always, 

As  time  on  wings  rushes  along, 

That  God's  tender  and  fond  embrace 
Is  holding  us  lovingly  strong. 

'T  is  not  alone  'mid  joy  and  smiles, 

Our  hearts  and  minds  grow  wise  and  true, 

The  larger  growth  is  in  the  shade 

Where  pain  and  sorrow  have  their  due. 

Tears  often  prove  glasses  to  souls ; 

Sweet  love  may  come  by  sore  despair, 
Enriching  life  by  lasting  gain, 

To  fix  affections  on  things  fair. 

Experience  proves  more  and  more, 
As  we  journey  on  each  new  day, 

That  light  from  the  good  Father's  face 
Is  shining  full  upon  our  way. 

So  'midst  all  life's  bright  tints  and  shades, 
We  can  hold  fast  the  Father's  hand, 

And  be  assured  through  night  and  day, 
That  he  will  guide  to  the  Home  Land. 


27 


TRUE   FRIENDSHIP 

Is  what  ?     'Tis  virtue,  'tis  truth,  'tis  goodness, 
Religion  and  wisdom  joined  with  meekness ; 
'Tis  the  bow  of  hope,  the  sunbeam  of  love, 
A  gem  and  pearl  from  pure  heaven  above ; 
'Tis  the  beauty  of  beauties,  angel's  dove, 
To  conduct  our  hearts  to  Infinite  Love, 
To  grow  us  to  highest  capacity, 
Dwelling  on  earth  or  in  eternity. 


NEW   YEAR'S   DAY. 

Last  New  Year's  day  was  fair  as  May ; 
The  sky  was  blue  with  deepest  ray ; 
O'er  hills  and  in  the  vales  was  snow, 
Making  a  splendid  crystal  glow. 

The  boys  and  girls  were  all  astir 
With  sleds  and  skates,  wearing  no  fur  ; 
The  air  was  filled  with  cheerful  song, 
Causing  the  day  to  speed  along. 

The  birds  of  winter  as  of  yore, 
Did  their  best  to  fly  afore ; 
The  puffy  chickadee  and  jay 
Seemed  bound  to  make  a  gala  day. 

Young  men  called  on  young  ladies  fair, 
To  wish  them  joy  and  bliss  most  rare : 

28 


The  old  and  worn  remained  indoors, 
To  con  their  joys  and  do  their  chores. 

Some  sorrowed  at  the  empty  chair, 
The  unread  book  and  lock  of  hair ; 
The  year  had  changed  joys  and  gladness 
To  hours  of  tears  and  lone  sadness. 

Since  God  does  always  for  the  best ; 
This  truth  divine  imparts  soul-rest; 
'T  is  passing  out  of  lone  drear  night 
Into  a  day  of  brightest  light. 

As  we  study  inspiration 
We  learn  of  the  soul's  duration, 
How  't  was  born  to  live  forever 
And  do  with  highest  endeavor. 

So  death  turns  gross  darkness  to  light ; 
Thus  putting  off  weakness  for  might ; 
The  past  with  ioy  we  now  recall 

v     « 

And  hope  on  with  no  fear  at  all. 

To  this  end  we  climb  New  Year's  wall 
With  joy  and  hope,  dreading  no  fall, 
Enjoying  scenes,  future  and  past, 
To  build  up  character  to  last. 

This  was  my  New  Year's  rosary 
With  strangely  varied  glossary, 
Inwoven  with  snow  and  flowers, 
To  end  time  in  Eden  Bowers. 

29 


EASTER. 

Glad  Easter 's  here  again  ! 
Accompanied  with  beauty  of  spring ; 
Its  bells  far  and  wide  are  clear  ringing ; 
To  hearts  the  sweetest  joys  'tis  bringing 

Without  any  refrain. 

Now  hope  lights  up  the  way ; 
In  woods  and  vales  flowers  are  springing; 
In  copse  and  orchards  birds  are  singing ; 
And  brooks,  purling  and  free,  are  pouring 

Out  music  night  and  day. 

Now  sorrow  finds  relief, 
Since  Easter  proclaims,  "  Christ  is  risen  " ; 
The  tomb,  no  longer  a  dark  prison, 
But  window  of  light  in  profusion, 

To  fill  souls  with  belief. 

The  stone  is  rolled  away ; 
Sad  hearts  need  no  longer  to  sorrow, 
For  life  and  comfort  it  can  borrow, 
To  soothe  and  bless,  today  and  morrow, 

The  soul,  yes,  and  for  aye. 

We  should  welcome  Easter, 
As  the  key  to  many  a  mansion 
Where  dwell  lost  friends  through  blest  ascension. 
Whose  names  we  love  and  often  mention, 

Perfecting  character. 

80 


OUR   EDA. 

She  was  a  darling,  bright, 
With  eyes  all  light ; 
Her  cheeks  were  rosy  red, 
With  beauty  fed. 

Her  hair  was  flaxen  silk, 
Without  least  bilk ; 
Her  features  allured  sure 
The  hearts,  all  pure. 

Awake,  she  was  astir, 
Yet  all  loved  her ; 
In  act  helpful  she  'd  be 
As  all  could  see. 

Precocious,  keen  in  mind 
The  new  to  find, 
A  leader,  with  her  mates, 
As  caused  by  fates. 

And  she  felt  all  to  bless, 
And  none  depress ; 
Her  soul  was  full  of  cheer, 
Causing  no  fear. 

Nice  things  she  did  enjoy, 
Yet  ever  coy ; 

Her  voice  was  sweet  and  strong, 
So  felt  the  throng : 

31 


As  she  would  sing  to  them 
Of  Bethlehem, 
Giving  joy  to  the  place 
With  happy  grace. 

She  was  the  light  of  home, 
Being  ne'er  unwelcome : 
We  'd  dreamed  dreams  of  her 
Without  a  blur. 

Yet  brief  were  her  summers, 
Though  health  was  hers, 
Before  a  messenger 
Came  down  eager, 

And  translated  Eda, 
Our  blest  Eda, 
From  our  home  to  heaven, 
Our  hearts  riven. 

But  he  who  gave  the  child 
So  fair  and  mild, 
Did  lift  the  veil  and  showed 
How  his  works  glowed  ! 

And  how  she  lives  to  know 
And  upward  go, 
With  cherished  ones  for  aye 
With  all  to  say  : 

32 


"Advance  through  all  aeons 
With  orisons 

To  God,  knowing,  loving, 
And  still  growing." 


DANDELION. 

The  dandelion  has  once  more  come, 

To  drop  blossoms  of  gold 
On  lawn  and  meadow,  to  welcome 

Sweet  flowers,  manifold  ; 

To  multiply  fast  in  the  fields 
As  warm,  balmy  winds  blow, 

Increasing  from  one,  countless  yields, 
To  make  the  landscape  glow. 

These  gems  of  gold  so  thick  in  grass, 

As  making  fairies  smile, 
And  human  eyes  sparkle  to  pass, 

Are  ever  free  from  guile. 

They  become  more  beautiful  still, 
As  the  gold  turns  to  white, 

Forming  wondrous  seed-globes  on  hill 
And  plain,  ever  in  sight. 

As  their  seeds  perfect  rise  aloft 
On  wings  by  help  of  wind, 

33 


They  seem  to  be  celestial  oft, 
And  moved  by  will  of  mind. 

The  dandelions  thus  are  exalted, 
Imparting  lessons  high, 

To  help  souls  be  wise  and  sainted 
And  feel,  God  is  near  by. 


EARLY  SPRING. 

Once  more  fresh  spring  has  come, 

To  make  all  new, 
To  arch  the  vales  and  hills 

With  deepest  blue ; 
The  sparrows  have  their  wills 

And  robins,  too. 

Warm  rains  and  sunshine  fall 

In  turn  and  mass, 
To  grow  things  great  and  small, 

The  bud  and  grass, 
To  cover  field  and  wall, 

To  be  first-class. 

Leafage  soon  robes  the  woods, 

To  be  all  fanned 
By  breeze  from  shore  and  sea, 

Mountain  and  land, 
For  a  panacea, 

Ever  at  hand. 

34 


The  arbutus  now  smiles 

In  the  lone  dell ; 
The  bluets  star  the  fields 

Without  a  knell ; 
Cold  winter  to  spring  yields 

With  joyous  spell. 

Now  earth  is  full  of  life 

With  all  so  new ; 
For  spring  brings  forth  summer 

With  crystal  dew 
And  would  have  all  glimmer 

For  rarest  view. 

Who  does  n't  like  early  spring 

With  its  high  calls, 
"  Up  higher  in  the  light 

Where  nothing  palls, 
But  all  live  where  'tis  bright 

And  naught  enthralls  ?  " 


36 


JUNE. 

O  June !  delightsome  month  of  June ! 
When  all  on  earth  appear  in  tune  1 
You  put  on  finish  sure  to  spring, 
As  all  her  bells  do  widely  ring ; 
You  usher  in  the  glad  summer, 
While  voices  breathe  not  a  murmur; 
You  give  the  world  the  longest  day 
And  bring  it  forth  with  lustrous  ray 
And  paint  its  close  with  choicest  hues 
And  spray  its  fields  with  sparkling  dews. 
The  vireo  now  sweetly  sings, 
As  on  the  limb  she  calmly  swings. 
O  June !  the  month  of  bluest  skies ! 
And  numberless  gay  butterflies ! 
All  things  below  declare  you  best ! 
So  carols  lark  when  near  her  nest. 
The  sweetest  scent  from  every  rose 
Delights  us  as  the  wind  oft  blows ; 
Red  clover  smiles  being  in  bloom, 
And  timothy  waves  high  its  plume ; 
The  bee,  as  light  reflects  the  morn, 
Goes  forth  to  fill  with  sweets  her  horn ; 
At  night  even  the  stars  above 
Appear  to  drop  new  rays  of  love. 
Thus  nature  sings  to  all  in  tune, 
"  No  other  month  can  equal  June ! " 

36 


The  mounts  of  Eden  glow  her  sheen, 
To  furnish  thoughts  and  joys  serene. 
O,  come,  securely  pleasant  June ! 
And  pitch  all  souls  in  perfect  tune ! 
To  sing  great  praise  to  you  in  name 
Because  of  all  the  months,  the  dame ! 
So  may  all  hearts  be  one  at  noon, 
At  morn  and  night,  to  honor  June! 


A  SUNDAY  RIDE  WITH  CARRIE. 

The  morn  was  fair  and  very  bright ; 

A  voice  bid  us  away  ; 
So  Carrie  and  myself  made  haste, 

To  ride  that  sacred  day. 

Our  course  was  down  through  the  valley 

By  river  wide  and  grand  ; 
Of  which  great  poets  have  sweetly  sung 

And  art  painted  the  land. 

It  was  the  early  summer  time ; 

All  was  alive  with  praise ; 
The  clover  was  in  bloom  and  birds 

Did  songs  of  gladness  raise. 

The  ride  with  its  inspiring  views, 
So  filled  us  with  the  good 

37 


That  on  arrival  at  the  church 
We  were  in  holy  mood. 

Over  the  hills  was  our  return  ; 

Most  charming  was  the  way  ! 
When  height  of  land  was  gained,  we  there 

Desired  to  stop  and  stay. 

But  as  this  would  n't  do,  on  we  drove 
And  soon  reached  Spofford  Lake, 

The  most  beautiful  water  gem 
In  all  the  Granite  State. 

Its  surface  was  like  polished  glass, 

Reflecting  along  shore 
Grand  trees,  neat  cottages  and  men 

Seeking  for  ease  and  lore. 

As  Carrie  observed,  felt  and  thought, 

She  was  filled  with  delight ; 
As  we  approached  a  woodsy  spot, 

We  stopped,  O,  what  a  sight ! 

Mayflowers  starred  all  the  rich  ground  ; 

Dismounting,  soon  the  hands 
Were  loaded  full  of  sweet  blossoms 

Which  were  tied  fast  with  bands. 

Soon  nosegays  were  made  for  mother 
Of  blooms  most  pinky  white  ; 

38 


Suddenly  she  looked  up  to  me 
With  eyes  flashing  sharp  light ; 

Exclaiming,  "  Papa,  are  n't  you  glad, 
You  have  a  good  daughter 

To  ride  and  go  to  church  with  you  ?  " 
"  Yes,"  came  forth  instanter ! 

She  had  been  bright  sunbeams  of  light 
All  through  the  ride  and  day ! 

Now  verily  'midst  flowers  rare, 
She  was  a  lovely  Fay ! 

In  heaven  she  was  needed  sure, 

For  less  than  a  fortnight, 
A  messenger  at  twilight  came 

And  bore  her  from  our  sight. 

Through  faith  now  only  to  be  seen, 
Thrilled  with  glad  joys  on  high, 

Amidst  perennial  flowers, 
Too  beautiful  to  die ! 


39 


OUR  PINERY. 

I  planted  out  the  trees  with  care 

After  they  were  dug  up  as  rare, 

In  woods  near  and  across  the  sea, 

To  beautify  the  lawn  and  lea. 

There  was  delight  in  setting  them 

Out,  as  voices  sang  glad  anthem : 

Because,  when  they  should  grow  in  size, 

It  was  felt  they  would  be  a  prize, 

To  break  the  wind  from  Mapleside, 

That  far  off  it  might  safely  glide. 

Then  as  the  breeze  should  stir  the  leaves 

The  sweetest  music  from  the  trees 

Would  cheer  the  heart  and  calm  the  mind. 

Tending  to  make  life  pure  and  kind. 

We  were  engaged  in  this  good  scheme 

For  others,  to  render  supreme 

In  giving  joy  and  real  comfort, 

As  they  should  make  it  their  resort, 

In  winter  cold,  to  break  the  blast; 

In  summer  hot,  to  cool  air  fast. 

But  Providence  keeps  us  alive 

To  see  his  forces  act  and  strive, 

To  grow  sprouts  to  large,  shady  trees, 

Making  a  home  for  birds  and  bees 

All  through  the  long  days  of  the  year ; 

As  frosts  arrive  and  leaves  fall  sear 


40 


Bluejays,  titmouse  and  squirrels  claim 

A  share  in  it  without  least  blame, 

To  enjoy  its  evergreen  shade, 

As  fine  and  fair  as  can  be  made. 

From  windows  as  we  throw  out  corn 

Down  they  hasten  on  snow  or  lawn, 

To  pick  it  up  and  bear  aloft, 

To  eat,  or  hide,  to  become  soft. 

Our  Pinery  now  seems  a  gift 

From  God  for  a  divine  uplift 

To  heart  and  soul  in  many  ways 

Without  any  long,  sad  delays. 

It  proffers  physical  bequests, 

And  gratifies  reflective  guests, 

As  moving  limbs  cut  arcs  and  curves 

And  ellipsoids  which  the  wind  serves. 

To  the  ear  it  appeals  in  strains 

Of  sweet  concord  without  refrains, 

As  leaves  are  moved,  making  music, 

^Eolian  and  estatic, 

It  speaks  to  heart  of  God  and  life, 

How  it  was  made  without  harsh  strife 

From  the  seen  and  invisible, 

To  teach,  spirit  is  possible, 

Yea,  the  mother  of  all  things  seen, 

More  real  than  matter,  to  redeem 

And  bring  eternal  life  to  light, 

Showing  translated  friends  in  sight. 

41 


No  wonder  the  Greeks  supplied  woods 
With  sylphs,  nymphs,  elfs  and  strange  goods 
For  trees  were  temples  for  their  gods 
Under  which  priests  girded  with  ephods 
Worshipped  and  worshipped  oft  and  long, 
Serving  gods  in  prayers  and  song. 
Our  Pinery  one  God  reveals, 
Who,  as  Father,  every  soul  seals. 


OCTOBER. 

The  year  is  made  splendid 

By  charms  of  October ! 
The  sun  spreads  gold  on  mountain  top ; 
The  stars  by  night  ne'er  make  a  stop, 
And  harvest  gives  abundant  crop, 

That  none  be  sober. 

For  while  this  month  gilds  leaves 

For  nature's  fair  cover, 
It  paints  tall  tree  and  lowly  herb, 
And  renders  hill  and  vale  superb, 
And  puts  the  ugly  under  curb, 

To  glint  October. 

Russet  cheeked,  ruby  crowned, 

Hies  in  bright  October! 
Woodbine  and  ivies  twine  his  crest, 

42 


While  leaves  of  splender  robe  his  breast, 
And  his  feet  in  aster  tufts  rest 
Amid  red  clover. 

A  king  of  all  the  months 

Is  golden  October ! 
He  rules  in  glory  on  the  hills 
And  sways  his  sceptre  by  cool  rills, 
And  magnificent  works  he  builds 

All  the  earth  over. 

It  is  no  useless  thing 

To  admire  October ! 
To  live  in  his  fair  blue  weather, 
To  roam  fields  with  friends  together, 
As  free  as  birds  of  a  feather, 

Clasped  firm  together. 

Dear  friend  now  struggle  on 

Till  earthly  toil's  over; 
You  rise  by  help  of  by-gone  years ; 
As  Jordan,  its  darkness  gone,  nears 
With  peerless  diadem  appears 

Your  own  October. 


43 


FAY   BOY. 

A  darling  child  was  he, 

As  ever  there  could  be; 
He  was  delightsome  round  my  study  chair ; 

His  body,  head  and  heart, 

Seemed  just  right  from  the  start 
So  we  felt,  he  '11  long  be  with  us,  so  fair. 

But  sickness  came  to  him; 

His  eye  soon  became  dim, 
And  suddenly  our  Fay  was  borne  from  sight 

Filling  our  hearts  with  grief 

And  no  conscious  relief, 
For  sorrow  and  darkness  shut  out  all  light. 

Still  we  could  n't  think  him  dead, 

As  his  form  lay  in  bed, 
Though  his  eyes  were  closed  and  his  cold  hands  still, 

Yet  the  child  so  beloved 

Could  only  be  removed 
To  higher  conditions  by  Divine  Will. 

Such  feeling  dried  the  tears 

And  somehow  quelled  the  fears, 
That  we  might  know,  "  It  is  well  with  the  child," 

That  God  hath  taken  him 

To  dwell  with  seraphim, 
That  henceforth  he  might  shun  the  wrong  and  wild. 

44 


So  in  daily  prayer 

To  God  our  tried  hearts  dare 
Submit  to  his  will  and  sad  Providence, 

Feeling  his  ways  are  just 

And  so  in  him  we  'd  trust, 
Our  Fay  Boy  is  living,  in  innocence. 

Yes,  he  lives ;  tell  us  where  ? 

Near  us  everywhere ; 
Not  in  the  raiment  he  was  wont  to  wear, 

That  hath  returned  to  dust, 

As  sure  all  bodies  must, 
However,  the  beautiful  child  isn't  there. 

It  is  spirit  that  lives ; 

To  this  the  Father  gives 
Eternal  life  that  sorrow  we  may  bear, 

And  dwell  at  his  right  hand 

In  midst  of  kindred  band, 
And  so  in  heaven  meet  our  Fay  Boy  there. 


46 


ASCENT  OF  LITTLE  FEET. 

What  was  the  music  sound 

Heard  I  oft, 

Very  soft, 
As  I  wandered  around  : 

Was  it  rain 

On  the  pane, 
Then  falling  on  the  ground 

Which  I  heard, 

Not  absurd  ? 

Nay,  something  far  more  fleet, 

Here  and  there, 

On  the  stair : 
Sounds  came  of  little  feet, 

Not  of  gloom 

To  my  room, 
As  they  my  ear  did  greet, 

Dear  Carrie, 

Eda,  fairy ! 

Smiling  with  fair  faces 

On  the  floor 

Through  the  door, 
Yet  with  pleasing  graces 

Did  their  feet, 

Most  complete, 

46 


Echo  joy  from  their  prances, 
As  they  ran 
Without  plan. 

So  their  wee  feet  did  fall, 

Fast  clatter, 

Soft  patter, 
Through  house  and  through  the  hall, 

Till  one  day 

They  fell  prey 
In  body  to  death's  call, 

And  their  feet 

Echoed  sweet, 
As  they  passed  up  to  God. 


MONADNOCK. 

Southward  turn,  O  Time,  in  thy  flight! 
That  I  may  enjoy  clearest  sight, 
As  I  was  wont  to  in  boyhood, 
When  nature  promised  only  good, 
To  feed,  replenish  and  bless  mind 
With  landscapes  finest  of  their  kind ! 
Not  far  southward  beyond  the  dale 
There  he  mostly  stood  with  no  veil. 

Young  hearts  would  surely  thrill  and  leap, 
As  the  sun  o'er  his  head  would  creep ! 

47 


Setting  summit  and  all  aglow, 
With  silver  fired,  making  great  show, 
As  the  sun  rose  towards  high  noon, 
To  prove  himself  a  precious  boon 
By  setting  hills  and  vales  on  fire, 
To  furnish  hearts  all  they  desire. 

Then  Old  Monadnock  was  monarch  ! 
His  head  above  soaring  of  lark ; 
Delighting  to  entice  clouds  near, 
That  they  might  kiss  with  no  fear, 
Yielding  at  once  to  his  command 
And  willingly  clasp  his  great  hand, 
Crowning  beautifully  his  brow 
Forcing  all  below  him  to  bow. 

It  is  delightful  to  be  bom 

Where  hills,  plains,  dales  and  woods  adorn 

Landscapes  for  beauty,  unsurpassed, 

Producing  impressions  that  last, 

To  turn  thoughts  from  earth-scenes  above, 

To  admire  God's  vastness  and  love, 

Showing  whence  come  the  great  and  small, 

To  call  forth  deepest  thanks  for  all. 

When  a  small  boy  I  could  but  ask, 
Whence,  how  is  Monadnock  so  vast? 
Feeling,  he  must  be  very  old, 
Being  grey  and  worn  with  age  and  mould. 

48 


Geology  surely  has  found 
Traces  far  back  through  stone  and  ground 
Footprints  made  by  measureless  time, 
And  facts  cut  into  hardest  lime. 

'T  is  said  he  slipped  from  nature's  lap, 
As  she  was  producing  full  map 
Of  New  Hampshire,  grand  and  sublime ! 
Mount  Washington,  near  first  in  time, 
Leading  forth  Old  Man  of  the  Notch, 
Famed  'bove  anything,  English  or  Scotch ; 
Could  he  come  by  mere  accident? 
His  incoming  was  provident. 

Watchman  and  warden  has  he  stood 
With  scepter  swaying  e'er  for  good. 
Mayflower  he  saw  enter  port, 
Pilgrims  he  saw  build  a  strong  fort, 
And  how  all  settled  on  Plymouth's  shore, 
Establishing  church,  school  and  more, 
That  freedom  of  conscience  might  reign 
Supreme  on  every  hill  and  plain. 

Sentinel  was  he  as  he  saw 
Bunker  Hill-fight  without  least  law, 
And  poor  Indian  long  before, 
Roaming  wilderness  and  seashore, 
Pitching  wigwam  by  brook  and  spring, 
That  he  might  dwell  in  peace  and  sing ; 

49 


He  saw  white  mane  ome  here  and  take 
The  land  as  his,  a  sad  mistake. 

Old  Monadnock,  honor  to  Thee  ! 
For  what  thou  hast  been  and  wilt  be  ! 
Thy  fame  extends  over  the  earth  ; 
Thy  name  is  dear  in  gloom  and  mirth  ; 
Ever  thou  dost  proudly  behold 
Thousands  of  homes,  ne'er  to  be  sold  ; 
Whose  inmates  do  enjoy  real  life, 
Relieved  of  fear  and  anxious  strife. 

Throngs  have  climbed  to  thy  pinnacle, 
Regarding  it  no  miracle, 
To  see  the  settlements  and  lakes, 
Affording  views  best,  nature  makes. 
As  I  looked  from  Lebanon  Mount, 
Alpines,  Rockies,  these  could  not  count 
Against  thy  fair  prospects  and  reign 
O'er  landscapes,  beautiful  and  plain. 

Thou  'st  been  help,  cheer  and  strength  to  me 
In  rounding  the  whole  world  to  see 
Peoples,  sights  and  institutions, 
Mindful  of  thy  exhibitions  ; 
Thou  gavest  joy  in  youthful  days, 
As  I  would  look  with  earnest  gaze 
At  morn, to  see  thee  in  gold-blaze, 
Or  at  sunset  aglow  with  praise. 


50 


Thy  head  at  my  home  still  in  sight, 
Thou  givest  sure  greatest  delight ! 
Thou  art  true  weather  predictor, 
And  sometimes  wild  storm  dictator ! 
Pleasure  I  feel  to  acknowledge 
Thee  monarch  of  thy  realm,  and  pledge 
Thee  admiration  and  true  love, 
Till  God  doth  call  us  all  above. 


ANGELIC   AID. 

Do  we  feel  and  know  that 

Hand  in  hand  we  range 
With  angels  all  the  way 

Through  this  world  of  change  ? 
Far  sweeter  voices  call  us 

Upward  than  we  think, 
As  heavenward  we  go, 

Escaping  each  brink. 

We  know  something  guides  us, 

That  is  out  of  sight, 
And  leads  us  lovingly 

Into  paths  of  right ; 
Its  arms  and  hands  are  n't  felt 

By  our  mortal  grasp ; 
Soul  to  soul  always  clings 

With  tenderest  clasp. 

51 


This  seraph  leadership, 

Felt  every  day, 
Should  ever  be  prized  more 

Than  language  can  say. 
The  higher  only  aids 

The  lower  and  leads 
It  on  and  up  to  God, 

Doing  worthy  deeds. 


SUNSET   OF    LIFE. 

The  river  is  calmest,  meeting  the  tide ; 
The  flowers  are  sweetest  at  eventide ; 
The  birds  sing  happiest  at  close  of  day ; 
Man  seems  noblest  when  just  passing  away. 

Morning  is  wide  awake,  ev'ning  has  charms 
That  soothe  and  quiet  with  most  cordial  balms ; 
And  weary  man  must  like  her  sure  the  best, 
For  morning  says  hard  work,  but  evening,  rest. 

Night  comes  so  gently  and  so  softly  bears 
Peacefulness  as  hushing  with  seraphs  airs, 
To  speed  and  strengthen  men  in  their  race 
To  banish  weariness  from  every  face. 

How  all  becomes  hushed  and  still  as  night  throws 
Round  earth  and  sky  her  calmness  and  repose ! 

52 


To  brood  and  nourish  a  helpful  power, 
Which  cannot  be  secured  from  morning  hour. 

While  day  lasts  man  must  labor  on  and  pray 
Let  whatever  come  to  pass  as  it  may : 
Thus  it  is  in  time  and  all  through  this  life ; 
There  can't  be  rest  amidst  physical  strife. 


A   HAPPY   DAY. 

Would  you  know  how  this  is  made? 

Confide  in  God ; 
He  knows  the  way,  he  is  staid, 

Full  of  method. 
So  trust  and  go  on  his  way, 

As  he  leadeth, 
And  you  will  have  as  fair  a  day, 

As  you  hopeth ; 
Him  only  trust,  that  is  all ; 

Then  the  day  will  surely  be 
Happy  whatever  befall, 

Serenely  joyous  and  free. 

Yes,  duly  trust,  love  and  ask 

God's  leadership, 
And  he  will  give  thee  no  task, 

Rather  friendship, 


58 


To  speed  thee  right  onward  still 

Doing  his  will, 
And  thus  thy  cup  of  joy  fill, 

Doing  his  will ; 
He  who  formed  thee  to  do  good, 

Will  not  fail  to  reach  his  end, 
For  he  is  e'er  understood, 

His  succor  ready  to  lend. 

Let  us  put  in  his  keeping 

Every  care, 
Yes,  right  away  ere  sleeping, 

And  we  shall  fare 
In  life's  severe  battle  well, 

Pressing  onward, 
Anxious  of  his  love  to  tell, 

Helping  upward. 
O,  how  plain  is  all  the  way ! 

Fitted  up  by  the  All-Good, 
To  a  truly  Happy  Day, 

When  souls  feed  on  angel-food. 


54 


NEVER   SO   LIGHT   BEFORE. 

Sunlight  is  one  of  the  best  gifts 

To  mortals  while  on  earth ; 
It  ope's  the  bud,  the  soul  uplifts ; 

It  rarely  causes  death. 

Apply  the  prism  to  one  white  ray. 

And  lo !  it  unfolds  seven 
Exquisite  hues  through  the  assay, 

And  will  mind  enliven. 

All  light  is  full  of  great  surprise ; 

The  birds  so  sing  at  dawn, 
The  stars  declare  it  as  they  rise, 

And  so  the  sports  of  fawn. 

It  is  the  force  that  wakes  up  life ; 

Gross  darkness,  oh !  how  still ! 
But  light  sure  fills  the  day  with  strife, 

Yet  all's  full  of  good  will. 

The  last  words  of  Goethe  spoken 
Were  these,  "Give  me  more  light." 

He  felt  light  his  soul  would  quicken 
And  make  all  truly  bright. 

A  precious  friend  passing  away, 
Truly  herself  in  lore, 

55 


As  things  she  often  scanned  would  say 
"  Never  so  light  before." 

Her  soul  seemed  to  have  countless  eyes 

To  see  by  one  vast  Sun 
Most  clearly  that  which  never  dies, 

The  life-work  being  done. 

God  said  at  first,  "  Let  there  be  light," 

Great  darkness  fled  away, 
And  earth  and  heaven  felt  his  might, 

And  all  proclaimed,  "  'Tis  day ! " 

As  progress  has  been  made  onward, 
God's  seal  has  been  more  light ! 

He  '11  not  change,  as  all  go  upward 
To  Mansions  always  bright. 


THE   SOUL-LAND. 

Across  the  River,  just  from  sight, 
Is  Eden,  so  blissful  and  so  bright ; 
It  needs  no  sun  for  light  or  heat 
Where  all  classes  are  wont  to  meet. 

The  Master  Builder  made  it  fair, 
Attractive,  sure  for  all  to  heir ; 
No  sin,  nor  tears,  nor  sickness  blight 
That  land  of  bliss  just  out  of  sight. 

This  side  the  River  are  death  and  dismay, 
All  things  are  changing  and  full  of  decay, 
Our  day  is  fleeting  and  ere  it  is  night, 
We  cross  the  River  sure,  just  out  of  sight. 

The  River  often  looks  dismal  and  wide ; 
Some  fear  lest  they  cannot  withstand  the  tide, 
And  feel  their  own  garments  will  not  be  white, 
As  they  reach  the  soul-land,  just  out  of  sight. 

From  many  dear  homes  all  have  gone 
On  angel  wings,  feeling  no  thorn ; 
Some  go  so  still  and  sweetly  o'er 
The  River  none  hear  dip  of  oar. 

All  can  secure,  if  they  but  will,  a  guide, 
Who  will  conduct  and  keep  them  by  his  side ; 
He  is  the  way,  the  truth  and  fullest  light 
To  the  soul-land  that  is  just  out  of  sight. 

57 


THE    FOLLOWING    POEMS    WERE    COM 
POSED  AFTER  THE  AUTHOR  WAS 
PAST  HIS  EIGHTY-FIFTH 
BIRTHDAY 


MARLBORO 

NEW  HAMPSHIRE 

1913 


CONTENTS. 


SPIKITUAL  NEARNESS    ...  59 

UNSPEAKABLE  JOY                  .         .  60 

THE  GOOD  NE'ER  LOST         .  62 

DON'T  SAY  FRIENDS  ARE  DEAD       .  64 

WHAT  PAYS?  66 
EACH   CLOUD  HAS  A   LINING   OF  LIGHT        67 

OUR  FRIENDS  BEYOND  THE  SEA    .  .         69 

THE  COMMONEST  DEAREST   .  .         71 

BEAUTIFUL  THINGS       .         .  72 

RECALLING  VISIT  TO  LUCERNE      .  .         74 

LITTLE  THINGS  GREAT           .  .         78 

INWARD  LOOKS     ...  79 

THE  LORD  DIRECTETH           ...  81 

WHERE  AND  WHAT  is  HEAVEN     .  .         85 
THREE  HOURS  CONVERSATION  WITH  J.  G. 

WHITTIER          ....  86 

INTO  THE  SPIRIT  LAND  90 


SPIRITUAL  NEARNESS. 

Wherever  we  wander, 

Or  in  this  world  go, 
Heavenly  eyes  watch  us, 

As  we  little  know; 
Most  tender  calls  bid  us, 

"Up  higher,  onward 
In  the  pathway  Christ  trod, 

Reaping  rich  reward." 

Do  not  angels  e'er  lead 

In  all  divine  ways, 
Though  they  be  never  seen, 

Being  veiled  always? 
God  is  still  never  seen, 

Yet  we  feel  him  near, 
As  we  think  and  live  on, 

Being  very  dear. 

Why  is  it  in  the  night, 

We  wake  from  sound  sleep 
And  find  us  communing 

With  friends  very  sweet, 
Who  passed  on  years  before, 

Being  loved  and  missed; 
Why  should  we  think  of  them? 

Because  loved  and  saved. 


59 


Spirits  can  touch  spirits, 

They  are  joined  as  one, 
When  true  here  and  always, 

Devoted  to  good  done. 
We  should  feel,  those  throned  high, 

Often  come  to  us 
During  the  day  or  night, 

To  sing  sweet  chorus. 

Were  it  not  for  such  joy 

Life  would  be  so  dark; 
But  the  unseen  controls 

The  seen,  a  sure  mark, 
To  quicken  steps  upward 

Into  fadeless  light, 
And  the  meeting  of  friends, 

A  beautiful  sight. 

UNSPEAKABLE  JOY. 

It  is  a  joy  to  think  of  friends, 

Who  have  gone  on  before, 
To  clearly  portray,  how  all  tends 

To  lighten  evermore. 

They  help  us  anew  to  see  God 
And  understand  our  Christ 

By  his  teachings,  deeds  and  method, 
Each,  an  earnest  querist. 

60 


He  doesn't  destroy  identity, 

Preserving  it  the  same 
Here  and  there,  and  e'er  in  safety, 

Doing  good  in  God's  name. 

This  lifts  mind,  sorrowing  above, 

Feeding  it  with  the  bread 
Of  Celestial  life,  full  of  love, 

With  which  angels  are  fed. 

This  wakens  the  spiritual, 

Blessing  it  with  new  sight, 
Rendering  it  very  joyful 

In  this  beautiful  light. 

Being  thus  with  friends  inspired, 

Who  bid  us,  "Up  higher," 
To  live  and  love  all  things  sacred, 

Sets  heart  and  mind  on  fire. 

This  leads  from  vales  to  mountain  heights, 

While  we  live  here  below, 
Whence  soul  enjoys  delightful  flights 

To  gilded  heights,  not  slow. 


61 


THE   GOOD   NE'ER  LOST. 

The  kindly  look;  the  gentle  word 
Which  only  angels  saw  and  heard; 
The  secrets  of  self-sacrifice, 
All  unnoticed  by  mortal  eyes, 
These  are  not  lost. 

The  sweet  anthem  of  a  lone  heart, 
Gushing  forth  far  from  any  mart, 
Perchance,  in  lonely  wood  or  dell 
With  none  enticed  by  some  sweet  spell, 
This  is  sure  gain. 

Visiting  the  Silent  City, 
If  tears  fall  of  love  and  pity, 
These  change  to  glasses  so  to  see 
Our  sainted  living  still  and  free; 
This  gives  great  joy. 

Let  hearts  be  fixed  on  things  above, 
Those  things  we  can  forever  love; 
Then  we'll  be  building  character 
Here,  now,  and  always  hereafter. 
This  is  noble. 

If  we  pray  and  succor  the  poor, 
As  best  we  can  in  town  or  moor; 
If  we  recall  the  afflicted, 
Bestowing  blessings,  warm-hearted; 
This  gives  more  life. 

62 


Being  kind  and  helpful  to  all, 
Though  some  may  be  spiteful  and  small; 
Returning  good  for  wrong  alway 
Without  any  showy  display; 
This  is  great  gain. 

Review  the  seasons  passed  away; 
Consider  what  was  done  each  day; 
The  good  still  cherish,  the  evil 
Abhor  and  spurn,  as  uncivil. 
This  will  be  gain. 

Let  humble  prayer  e'er  ascend, 
And,  all  to  Christ  and  God,  commend, 
Alike  be  king  and  beggar  held 
In  just  embrace  and  still  upheld; 
Here  is  no  loss. 

Over  the  River  there'll  be  seen 
Most  clearly  in  beautiful  sheen 
Things  forgotten  and  long  hidden; 
These'll  be  brought  to  view  as  bidden. 
Of  all,  none  lost. 


63 


DON'T  SAY  FRIENDS  ARE  DEAD. 

When  friends  have  passed  on  high 
Don't  speak  of  them  as  being  dead; 
They  have  gone  where  there  is  no  dread, 
To  live  and  learn  and  new  things  see, 
Pressing  onward  in  joyous  glee 

With  dear  ones  and  no  sigh. 

They  are  free  from  all  pain, 
To  be  instructed  in  wisdom 
And  what  belongs  tp  God's  kingdom 
And  meeting  those,  gone  on  before, 
Advancing  in  heavenly  lore, 

With  no  loss,  but  great  gain. 

Mind  longs  ever  to  grow; 
Today  must  surpass  yesterday, 
To  be  pleasant  without  delay: 
The  universe  is  so  immense 
It'll  take  always — its  facts  to  sense, 

Keeping  heart  from  sorrow. 

The  translated  are  blest, 
Having  lost  naught  but  mortal  flesh, 
To  be  clothed  with  radiance  fresh, 
To  live  and  advance  in  knowledge 
And  new  truth  constantly  allege, 

Giving  the  soul  sweet  rest. 

64 


Of  the  gone  let  us  speak 
Of  them,  think  of  them  as  living, 
In  soul-form  preserved,  still  loving, 
As  when  with  us  they  laughed  and  talked, 
As  hand  in  hand  we  fondly  walked, 

Realizing  nothing  bleak. 

This  will  strew  our  pathway 
With  roses  and  lilies  divine, 
And  precious  stones  right  from  the  mine 
Of  heaven,  fadeless  and  lasting, 
Which  the  angels  are  e'er  dropping, 

To  beautify  our  way. 

This'll  open  Paradise, 
Leading  us  through  its  golden  gate, 
Giving  us  bliss  without  ill  fate, 
That  in  darkness  we  may  have  light, 
And  so  enjoy  celestial  sight 

Of  ours  in  Paradise. 


65 


WHAT  PAYS? 

To  live  for  selfishness 

Is  vain: 
Thus  living  always  brings 

Sore  pain. 

Old  manna  by  keeping 

Is  spoiled: 
Saving  by  hoarding  is 

Earth-foiled. 

Giving  one's  soul  for  gold 

Is  loss: 
Great  riches  for  this  world 

Is  dross. 

Some  adoring  Mammon 

There  be, 
Yet  none  of  them  truly 

Are  free. 

The  safe  way  to  do  is 

To  give; 
Lose  one's  soul  for  others 

And  live. 

This  was  the  way  of  Christ, 

We  know; 
And  of  martyrs,  whose  names 

Do  glow. 

66 


Giving  makes  mind  and  heart 

To  grow, 
Blessing  soul  always  in 

Sorrow. 

Giving  self  for  others 

Does  pay, 
As  all  having  tried  it, 

Do  say. 


EACH   CLOUD   HAS  A  LINING  OF 
LIGHT. 

When  left  at  home  alone, 

The  beloved  all  gone; 
Then  tears  are  thickly  sown, 

And  joys  are  bygone: 
When  chairs  at  the  table 

Are  unoccupied, 
And  naught  now  seems  stable, 

The  heart  being  tried; 

Look  aloft!     Life's  beacon  may  fall  on  the  sight! 
Remember!     Each  cloud  has  a  lining  of  light! 

As  the  prisoner  hears 

Songs  of  nightingale 
Through  bars  without  least  fears, 

But  bright  hopes  regale; 

67 


So  let  us  our  friends  cheer 

With  kind  words  and  deeds, 
As  they  fall  in  the  rear, 

And  sow  e'er  good  seeds. 

Yes,  be  gentle!     This  will  lead  the  erring  right! 
Remember!     Each  cloud  has  a  lining  of  light! 

What  if  some  stars  do  fall 

At  night  from  the  sky, 
The  heavens  never  pall; 

Countless  others  fly 
On  through  limitless  space, 

Giving  splendid  light, 
To  adorn  all  with  grace, 

Affording  clear  sight: 

So  hope  on !     In  the  most  dark  and  dismal  night ! 
Remember!     Each  cloud  has  a  lining  of  light! 

I  saw  in  the  Red  Sea 
Coral  reefs  drifting, 
To  form  by-and-by  a  green  lea, 

Most  healthful,  growing 
Flowers  and  fruit  enough 

To  please  the  trained  eye, 
Having  naught  left  that's  rough, 

To  call  forth  a  sigh : 
Press  forward,  friend!     Making  the  future  most 

bright ! 
Remembering !     Each  cloud  has  a  lining  of  light ! 

68 


OUR  FRIENDS  BEYOND  THE  SEA. 

When  some  dear  friends  whom  we  have  known, 

Have  crossed  beyond  the  sea, 
The  lands  in  which  they  choose  to  roam, 

Soon  near  they  come  to  be. 

As  we  see  them  there,  they  attract 

And  draw  our  hearts  thither. 
How  we  long  too,  to  join  them  there, 

That  we  might  see  together! 

Is  it  not  so,  as  precious  ones 

Cross  o'er  death's  silent  sea 
To  the  beautiful,  fadeless  land 

Which  we  so  long  to  see? 

We  ween,  it  is  so  inviting, 

God  knows  it  is  not  best, 
We  learn  now,  how  it'll  draw  on  us, 

Lest  we  rush  to  the  blest. 

For  we  could  not  be  content  here 

To  bide  his  time  and  call, 
But  would  take  steps  at  once  to  go, 

Leaping  death's  dismal  wall. 

But  as  we  think  and  ponder  well, 

The  soul-land  is  real, 
More  solid  than  the  earth  we  tread, 

Yes,  'tis  ethereal! 

69 


We  feel  more  sure  of  seeing  friends 

In  the  heavenly  land 
Than  meeting  friends  o'er  Atlantic, 

Though  a  most  loving  band. 

For  ocean  may  claim  their  bodies, 

As  they  be  homeward  bound; 
Or  death  may  seize  and  lay  them  low 

In  casket  under  ground. 

But  not  so  with  friends  freed  from  earth, 

For  they  live  in  bodies, 
Spiritual  and  immortal, 

Freed  from  all  obsequies. 

So  we  find  it  encouraging, 

Looking  aft  and  afore 
To  the  glad,  sure  meeting  of  friends, 

Who  have  gone  on  before. 


70 


THE  COMMONEST  AND  RAREST. 

So  it  is  and  always  has  been 

In  high  and  lowly  places 
That  things  of  greatest  value  seen, 

Are  rarest  graces. 

Iron  ore  is  very  plentiful 

Surely  gold  is  very  scarce; 
The  former  is  common  and  useful, 

The  latter  is  sparse. 

The  one  is  found  in  mountain  piles, 
The  other,  down  deep  in  mines; 

For  the  first  we  need  not  go  miles; 
For  gold,  we  search  climes. 

Marbles  are  seen  everywhere 

In  quarry  and  public  square; 
But  diamonds  are  scarce,  here  and  there 

In  sand  they  do  glare. 

Oyster  shells  oft  abound  in  sea, 
And  divers  plunge  for  them  deep. 

But  only  now  and  then  we  see 
A  pearl  at  their  feet. 

Labor  does  set  the  price  on  earth 
Of  all  things  we  come  to  own; 

We  toil  hardest  in  time  of  dearth, 
Feeling  oft  all's  flown. 

71 


All  that  comes  easy  has  least  price ; 

What  we  struggle  for  hardest 
Will  be  gold  in  Paradise, 

And  will  last  longest. 

So  every  soul  that  wins  high  place 
In  the  future  must  strive  hard 

And  long,  or  he  will  fail  of  grace 
To  gain  high  standard. 

It  is  plain,  God  made  us  to  grow, 
Advancing  by  faithful  toil, 

Pressing  onward  without  sorrow, 
Keeping  free  from  soil. 

Thus  the  commonest  and  rarest, 
Are  opposites  to  be  known, 

To  aid  us  to  gain  the  fairest 
Of  things,  God  has  shown. 


BEAUTIFUL  THINGS. 

Beautiful  faces  e'er  wear, 
Whate'er  betide,  foul  or  fair, 
Expressions,  lovingly  rare. 

Beautiful  eyes  always  show 

How  purest  thoughts  fire  and  glow 

In  minds  and  hearts  while  below. 


72 


Beautiful  voice  expresses 
Far  more  than  finest  tresses, 
Or  the  most  showy  dresses. 

Beautiful  hands  do  real  good 
In  furnishing  healthful  food, 
To  keep  soul  in  the  best  mood. 

Beautiful  feet  strive  to  go 
On  errands,  free  from  all  woe, 
To  lane  or  slum,  howe'er  low. 

Beautiful  shoulders  will  bear 
Burdens  of  all  in  despair, 
Placing  them  under  God's  care. 

Beautiful  lives  surpass  all, 
Living  without  any  fall, 
Upward  is  their  constant  call. 

Beautiful  is  the  setting 
Of  their  sun,  so  refreshing, 
As  they  pass  on  e'er  blessing. 

Beautiful  names  they  have  written 
High  above  sin,  and  given 
Joy  to  others  to  hearten. 

Beautiful  things  in  life  pay, 
Never  bringing  least  dismay, 
Nor  self,  nor  others  do  slay. 

73 


RECALLING  VISIT  TO  LUCERNE. 

My  mind  today 

Is  far  away, 
Sailing  on  cheerful  Lucerne  Bay, 

In  a  winged  boat, 

A  bird  afloat, 
Going  with  lofty  peaks  o'er  mote. 

Oh,  the  mountains! 

Rills  from  fountains! 
All  surely  volcanic  remains; 

They  bring  the  past 

To  us  so  fast, 
Telling  how  they  were  raised  to  last. 

At  dawn  they  glow 

On  all  below, 
And  down  golden  lustre  they  throw 

Upon  peasant, 

Most  abundant, 
Awaking  all  to  feel  pleasant. 

I  do  wonder, 

As  I  ponder 
On  the  countless  mountains  yonder 

And  the  deep  vales, 

So  full  of  tales 
And  subject  to  furious  gales. 

74 


The  town  Lucerne 

All  edged  with  fern, 
Has  become  a  city  concern, 

Admitted  by  all, 

In  spring  or  fall 
Or  summer,  giving  it  a  call. 

The  city  smiles, 

Prolonged  for  miles 
In  sight  of  beautiful  green  isles, 

Where  beauty  stays 

And  sunshine  plays 
The  year  'round  its  bewitching  lays. 

Grassy  Rigi, 

Watched  by  Peri, 
All  free  from  shili-i-shalli, 

Whose  top  is  rock 

And  sides  shamrock, 
With  trees  and  clovers  on  hillock. 

We  climbed  from  base 

With  joyous  grace 
One  bright  afternoon  at  slow  pace, 

And  our  reward, 

Climbing  upward, 
Was  great,  as  the  sun  glowed  downward. 

Old  Pilatus, 
Home  of  Notus, 
Of  ridged  stone  and  detritus, 

75 


We  ascended 
As  light  blended 
The  fair  morning  in  cars  crowded. 

Oh,  wonderous  sight! 

In  early  light, 
As  we  stood  on  the  summit  height 

Looking  away 

In  the  clear  day, 
With  countless  peaks  in  great  array! 

None  can  picture 

Our  great  rapture, 
As  we  looked  from  that  high  posture. 

It  was  so  grand 

To  understand 
As  we  gazed,  holding  hand  in  hand. 

The  great  marvel, 

All  so  novel, 
Was  that  nothing  now  seemed  grovel, 

But  inspiring, 

Everlasting, 
Altogether  was  surprising! 

Sailing  the  lake 

We  did  partake 
Of  great  delight  for  Schiller's  sake, 

While  inspecting 

And  recalling 
How  he  courted  his  muse  boating. 

76 


Then  Tell's  Chapel, 

Full  of  Gospel, 
Was  in  sight  where  he  did  repel 

Gesler,  his  foe, 

Which  was  not  slow, 
But  uplifting  to  friends  below. 

Where'er  we  went 

All  was  lucent 
And  to  the  spirit  resplendent, 

Pleasing  the  heart, 

Full  of  fine  art, 
From  which  we  did  feel  loath  to  part. 

Our  visit  there 

Will  alwajrs  glare 
As  most  thrilling,  of  anywhere: 

We  brought  away 

Without  least  fray, 
Memories  that  cannot  decay. 

She  that  partook, 

And  these  things  brook, 
Hath  passed  to  Heaven  with  bright  look, 

Seeming  content 

With  soul  all  bent 
On  being  a  saintly  student. 

To  see  and  know, 

To  love  and  sow 

More  than  was  possible  below; 

77 


Heart  full  of  love, 
Right  from  above, 
Brought  by  Heaven's  carrier  dove. 


LITTLE  THINGS   GREAT. 

Fitting  words  in  sorrow's  hour, 

Spoken  low; 
Or  just  a  bow  or  flower, 

As  we  go; 

A  hand  shake  right  from  the  heart 
Warms  and  clings, 

As  they  sweet  comfort  impart, 
Little  things. 

To  the  sick  and  afflicted, 

These  are  great, 
Carefully  estimated, 

Free  from  fate; 

Little  physical  kindness 

Becomes  deep, 
When  seen  by  spirit-wiseness, 

A  soul  keep. 

Let  us  not  slight  little  things, 

For  from  these 
Character  is  grown  and  brings 

Perfect  ease; 

78 


Thereby  showing  in  Heaven 
How  they  live, 

Doing  little  things  even, 
Constructive. 


INWARD  LOOK. 

The  busy  day  is  gone; 

Twilight  sits  on  its  throne; 
Ere  eventide  rules  far  and  wide 

Muse  with  thyself  alone; 
See  what  good  thou  hast  done 

Before  sleep  holds  its  reign, 
That  thou  mayest  feel  in  God's  hands, 

There  is  no  lasting  pain. 

Thy  deeds  and  motives  view 

Through  memory's  clear  glass, 
Thy  trained  conscience  being  the  judge 

And  critic  as  they  pass; 
Should  wrongs  be  discovered 

And  thy  heart  be  troubled 
Resolve,  tomorrow's  energy 

Shall  fully  be  doubled. 

When  morning  hastens  on 

O'er  hill  and  plain  its  light 
To  bless  the  day  with  renewed  life, 

Let  heart  rise  to  the  sight, 

79 


Going  forth  to  duty 

With  smiles  and  love  for  all 
The  good,  the  bad,  the  high  and  low 

And  there'll  be  no  downfall. 

Relie  not  on  the  seen 

For  permanent  delight, 
But  on  the  unseen,  the  mind's  realm, 

Upheld  by  Heaven's  might; 
Then  howe'er  the  world  goes, 

With  thee  'twill  go  right 
Onward,  upward,  in  higher  life 

With  God  most  close  in  sight. 

Good  company  have  they 

Who  by  themselves  walk, 
As  did  Emerson  in  Concord, 

And  with  their  souls  talk. 
Such  do  not  feel  alone; 

Nature  and  great  hearts  keep 
Them  company  and  in  them  live, 

Enabling  them  joy  to  reap. 

So  drink  freely  waters 

That  flow  from  thy  soul-fount, 
Filled  and  supplied  with  dews  and  rains 

From  the  Eternal  Mount, 


80 


And  thou  wilt  enjoy  life 
And  find  it  worth  living 

On  earth  and  in  Mansions  above, 
Amidst  friends  most  loving. 


THE  LORD   DIRECTETH. 

For  he  hath  called  us  forth 

To  love  and  bless  ever, 
So  we  are  of  real  worth, 

Made  to  live  forever. 
He  hath  doubled  our  joy, 

Divided  our  sorrow, 
To  keep  us  in  employ 

Today  and  tomorrow, 
That  we  may  grow  Christian  graces 
With  smiles  of  love  on  our  faces. 

Then  trust  his  leadership, 

As  safe  everywhere, 
Destroying  life's  hardship, 

And  all  that  is  severe. 
He'll  hold  fast  to  the  end 

Enabling  us  to  live 
And  all  others  befriend, 

Thus  with  him  co-active, 
Making  Heaven  right  here  below 
With  peace,  light,  growth  and  bliss  to  glow. 

81 


Thus  sped  we'll  understand, 

God  is  e'er  to  remain, 
Directing  with  his  own  hand 

In  his  wondrous  domain, 
That  we  may  gain  wisdom 

And  grow,  enlarging  mind, 

To  enjoy  his  kingdom 

Above  with  all  mankind, 
Doing  according  to  his  will, 
Ne'er  more,  experiencing  ill. 

THE  MEETING  PLACE. 

As  life  moves  on,  our  thought 
Of  Heaven  changes;   at  first  'tis  great  streets 
Of  gold;  then  of  pearl,  dazzling  silver  seats 

And  robes  dearly  bought. 

But  in  the  afterwards 
It  shapes  itself  anew  and  more  distinct, 
A  place  in  which  to  act,  to  love  and  think, 

And  so  advance  upwards. 

It  becomes  free  from  tears, 
A  place  with  many  a  familiar  face, 
And  countless  pictures  and  beauties  of  grace 

Where  all  at  length  are  seers. 

As  dear  friends  come  and  go, 
'Tis  made  more  real,  'tis  true,  day  by  day, 

82 


As  our  nearest  often  hasten  away, 
To  be  free  from  dire  foe. 

This  going  to  Heaven 
Is  not  to  sit  still  with  close  folded  hands, 
But  to  be  active  amidst  seraph  bands, 

As  facts  have  sure  proven. 

Heaven's  a  place  of  meeting 
Our  kindred  and  all  we  have  truly  known, 
Reaping  actually  what  each  has  sown; 

So  loving  true  living. 

Thus  conditioned  to  grow 
Gives  inspiration,  remaining  below, 
To  do  our  best  to  make  mind  and  heart  glow, 

And  be  free  from  sorrow. 

This  mental  condition 

Makes  true  the  promise  of  Christ  to  mankind, 
Giving  rest  to  activity  of  mind, 

While  seeking  salvation. 

Now  life  is  worth  living, 
And  seraph  music  falls  sweet  from  on  high, 
Saying,  "Up  higher,  leaving  every  sigh, 

To  hear  sweetest  singing. " 

There  is  no  sitting  still 
In  Heaven;  there's  no  monotony  on  high; 
'Tis  seeing,  learning,  doing  there;  God,  nigh, 

All  regarding  his  will. 

83 


So  Heaven  is  all  life, 

Free  from  sin;  all  are  helpers,  lovers  there, 
As  good  prophets  and  apostles  declare, 

Righteousness  being  rife. 

Keep  the  heart  full  of  trust 
In  God  who  has  created  and  preserves  all, 
And  death  sure  will  lose  its  sting  and  wrong  fall 

Back  to  earth,  being  just. 

So  the  gathering  place 
Is  Heaven  where  all  the  good  is  restored 
And  man  revels  in  what  is  most  sacred 

And  full  of  divine  grace. 

Yes,  the  gathering  place 
Is  Heaven;  we  pass  through  death  to  gladness 
To  reach  it,  and  become  free  from  sadness, 

To  know  sweetest  solace. 

We  do  need  a  foretaste 
Of  this  blissful  abode  while  on  the  earth, 
That  we  experience  no  fall  nor  dearth, 

Nor  blighting  aftertaste. 

But  rather  be  hopeful, 
Doing  the  best  things  possible  while  below 
And  so  in  the  footsteps  of  Christ  follow, 

Finding  them  most  joyful. 


84 


WHERE  AND  WHAT  IS  HEAVEN? 

Oh!  where  can  soul  be  satisfied, 
Joy  for  pain  be  given, 
Where  mind  awakes  to  highest  truth, 
And  heart  revels  in  lasting  youth? 
A  voice  sings,  "in  Heaven." 

But  what  and  where  is  that  abode? 
It  consists  of  all  love 
To  God  and  man  everywhere, 
Living  ever  without  false  glare 
Here  below  or  above. 

It  is  not  far  away  in  space, 
Nor,  away  off  in  time, 
But  here  and  now  enjoyed  by  all, 
Faithful  to  conscience's  highest  call, 
Doing  things  most  sublime. 

Let  one  think  and  live  his  best  thoughts 
Constantly  here  below, 
And  he  will  advance  upward  sure 
Into  a  bright,  serene  future, 
Enjoying  Heaven's  glow. 

So  eternal  Life  can  be  found 
And  prized  highly  on  earth, 
Telling  us  what  it  is  above 
Where  our  sainted  ones  live  in  love, 
Advancing  with  no  dearth. 

85 


THREE  HOURS   CONVERSATION 
WITH  J.   G.   WHITTIER. 

Winter  had  spread  out  his  white  robe 
All  over  the  face  of  nature, 
Hiding  from  sight  each  rough  feature, 

Making  fair  this  side  of  the  globe. 

The  day  was  bright  and  full  of  cold, 
Still  I  went  from  Maine  to  Boston, 
To  meet  and  know  a  live  Briton 

And  so  numerous  things  unfold. 

At  Marlboro  hotel  we  met, 

And  when  business  was  all  complete, 

I  was  called  and  given  a  seat 
By  Whittier  without  regret. 

I  was  soon  invited  by  him 

To  his  room  where  we  did  converse 
For  three  hours  with  nothing  adverse, 

As  we  spoke  of  creed  and  maxim. 

His  heart  appeared  brim  full  of  love 
For  all  of  whatever  belief 
Feeling  they  did  find  glad  relief 

In  worshiping  a  God  above. 

He  said,  "the  Fatherhood  of  God 
In  his  own  mind  and  heart  clearly 
Settled  the  question  condignly 

Of  man's  destiny  without  clod." 

86 


He  continued,  "All  's  working  right 
In  churches  and  religious  world: 
Men  cannot  stand  still  but  are  whirled. 

From  vale  and  plain  to  lofty  height." 

In  substance,  he  said,  in  God's  way 
All  must  work  together  for  good, 
Which'll  be,  as  God  is  understood, 

For  all  things  are  under  his  sway. 

He  felt  superstition  had  reigned 
Too  long  for  the  good  of  the  race, 
And  was  passing  away  by  grace 

Quietly  and  surely  unfeigned. 

So  he  could  sing  of  God's  goodness 
And  Christ's  universal  power 
Which  the  Father,  as  his  dower, 

Had  given  him  for  his  greatness. 

He  said  that  "He  could  but  believe, 
Since  God  sent  his  own  Beloved  Son, 
To  save  all  souls  in  due  time  done, 

His  promise  he  would  not  reprieve. 

"For  all  Christians  fail  not  to  pray 
That  the  lost  shall  sometime  be  found 
And  come  mentally  to  be  sound, 

No  more  fore'er  going  astray." 


87 


GOD  LEADETH. 

He  leadeth  whither  we  should  go, 

To  be  safe; 
Not  always  in  flowery  paths, 

Free  from  chafe; 

We  were  not  made  simply  for  play, 
Nor  to  live  for  show  and  display, 
But  to  advance  today  and  grow 

Tomorrow. 

He  leadeth  in  adversity 

We  shall  find, 
If  we  confide  and  trust  in  him 

For  he  's  kind, 

Doing  his  best  for  our  welfare, 
That  we  may  e'er  work  on  the  square, 
Because  it  is  known  in  his  sight, 

Truly  right. 

The  fairest  souls  are  to  be  found 

Here  below 
Among  the  suffering  and  tried, 

As  things  show: 

Somehow  they  submit  to  fortune, 
Oft  singing  in  pain  some  sweet  tune; 
Such  always  overcome  the  flesh, 

Living  fresh. 

This  shows  that  it  is  not  always 
For  the  best, 

88 


To  live  constantly  in  sunshine 

To  find  rest; 

Nor  to  revel  in  green  meadows, 
Nor  to  enjoy  softest  pillows, 
But  suffer  for  others'  best, 

To  find  rest. 

So  let  the  Lord  lead,  as  he  will, 

And  be  still, 
Holding  fast  his  all-guiding  hand 

And  he'll  fill 

In  the  public  and  private  way, 
The  soul  with  joy  every  day, 
Thus  developing  lasting  life 

By  just  strife. 

So  God  becomes  the  good  Shepherd 

To  conduct 
His  children  in  the  dark  and  light 

And  induct 

Them  safely  to  the  better  land, 
To  love  and  work  with  seraph  band, 
In  growing  character  e'ermore, 

On  safe  shore. 

Therefore,  trust  in  his  leadership 

And  be  strong 
In  faith,  as  was  his  Beloved  Son 

And  live  long 


89 


Doing  good,  blessing  God  and  man 
Being  a  devoted  almsman 
While  upon  earth  and  then  above, 
Where  all's  love. 

INTO  THE   SPIRIT  LAND. 

Into  the  Spirit  Land, 

Who  will  lead  us  thither? 
As  adversity  smites,  thick  clouds  gather 
And  countless  falter  and  fall  on  the  strand? 

Why,  the  dear  Christ's  right  hand 

Will  sure  conduct  thither 

Into  the  Spirit  Land! 

Into  the  Spirit  Land 

From  saddest  condition, 
He  leads  upward  with  happiest  vision 
Of  perfect  works  by  the  seraphic  band 

Who  for  right,  love  and  truth 

Do  receive  fruition, 

Having  entered  the  Spirit  Land. 

This  makes  the  Spirit  Land 

Blissful  and  attractive, 
Inhabited  by  those  of  pure  motive, 
Striving  to  fulfil  each  divine  command 

And  all  truth  understand, 

Making  life  progressive 

Sure,  in  the  Spirit  Land. 
90 


A    000  569  450     o 


